Sleeper
by Opalsmith
Summary: The plan requires the creation of a very different type of Cylon model: one who truly believes she is human. Pre Miniseries
1. Leaving the Nest

**Sleeper  
****Author: Opalsmith  
Rating: T  
Disclaimer: I own nothing  
Story Setting: Pre _Miniseries  
_Beta: My _very_ wonderful husband  
Author's Notes: I wrote most of this story before I saw the final season of _Battlestar Glactica _and in particular Boomer's deleted scene from _Daybreak. _Please note that my version of events contradicts what was portrayed in this deleted scene.**

* * *

**Leaving the Nest**

* * *

Despite its massive size the Cylon Basestar moves gracefully through the vastness of deep space. The vessel's majestic elegance is designed to reflect the power and confidence of the resurgent Cylon. The Basestar forms the star shape recognisable to countless human children as a representation of the magical twinkling lights in the night sky. However when it is dissected its two halves form the shape of a piercing arrowhead. They aim in opposite directions with a central hub holding the two shapes together. And to the Cylon mind this hidden symbolism is important. The child sees only the innocent beauty of light when gazing on a distant star and is unaware of the lethal force of a pure power that is always the threat of a sun. The metal children of Humanity have used their time in the wilderness well…

Deep in the cavernous space that is the resting place for the Cylon Raiders; the warriors of flight, a group of beings with a startling resemblance to their human foe stand huddled together. The only thing that makes the label _human_ impossible is that each and every one of them is perfectly identical in every way to their neighbour. Their existence can therefore only be the result of manufacture rather than random creation. And if more confirmation is needed, all of these creatures share a single model number, the Model Eight.

As the closely gathered group moves out from and around in their tight circle there is a glimpse of what is holding their attention. There is one who is different. This Eight is clothed in contrast to the unabashed nudity of her sisters.

Each of the Eights takes a turn to silently caress and lightly kiss the face of the one who stands out from the crowd. Their actions speak for themselves, they are saying goodbye.

Un-noticed a Model Three and a Model Six observe the scene from a raised landing bay. They stand in front of a small battered human space transport vessel which conveniently fell into a Cylon trap some time ago. It is sufficiently nondescript to slip back through the defences that separate Cylon from Human space and has been kept for just this time.

The two onlookers have just finished loading the vessel with the luggage and vital equipment they will need for their separate missions. The suitcases and bags contain the props that will explain fictitious decades of life as Colonial citizens. And just visible through the cockpit viewing port is a funeral casket in the human style. It takes up the central aisle of the craft and is an accurate copy of an upmarket model crafted in blackened steel. There are representations of classical scenes in raised engravings on top of the elaborate lid. Six handles of black steel for lifting the heavy box are attached around the sides and one at each end. Each one of the handles is surrounded by raised engravings of white flowers which are a symbol of death to the superstitious human population of the Colonies. The coffin contains vital equipment in hidden lead lined compartments which will be needed when they arrive in Caprica City.

The Three has a harder more striking face while her sister Six is a refined beauty with honey coloured hair framing her face. They too are clothed and have painted their faces in the style of human females.

The Three turns to her compatriot and is surprised to note that she has an expression of disgust as she continues to watch the scene in front of them.

"Sister, does something trouble you?"

Six does not turn from her observations, answering in the flat tones of one still unused to hearing her own voice, "The Model Eights are too emotional; I can only see that as a weakness."

As much as the Three agrees that the emotional display is distasteful she feels strongly that she needs to toe the Cylon line. She enjoys the position, as perceived by her, as the first among the Cylon females too keenly to consider any public display of disloyalty just yet. So she chooses to give Six a gentle lecture on familial love. "Remember _sister_ Six, that the Model Eights are designed to have all the human emotions for a purpose, they are still our sisters."

Irritated Six tugs at the light coloured tailored jacket she is wearing over a tight fitting white top and wide legged woollen trousers. The clothes are alien to her: hot, uncomfortable and restrictive. Cylons do not need to hide their bodies beneath layers of material. False modesty is yet one more failing for humans to endure.

Unable to let the matter go but also unwilling to be chastised Six remarks in a whisper as if only for her ears, "Perhaps the one chosen is enjoying the attention she is receiving too much and that should concern us."

"She is simply the first to separate from the Eights. She is special to them _only_ for that reason."

Six wants to point out that her sister Sixes did not react in this way when their first member was chosen for a mission, and that instead they ignored the fact one of them was changed. However she knows any doubts she feels should be kept under guard in case the Three passes on concerns that she will not be able to cope with her mission.

Instead Six turns away and calls for the Three to follow her, saying, "Let us leave her to savour the adulation, we should report to the control centre."

Six tunes her mind to link with the living centre of the gigantic Cylon vessel as she walks towards her goal. She, like all of the Cylon Models, uses her ability to project to find her way through the maze of identical corridors within the Basestar. Each Model has its own projection and it is never shared or even discussed between the different Models. The Six's projection is always a peaceful forest of tall dark trees in the late afternoon of a clear bright summer day.

The heat of the sun warms her face as she climbs up the uneven path towards the meeting place. All of her sensations tell her she is travelling through an organic restful haven with the gentle breeze at her back guiding her onto her destination. While she moves Six is at peace as she lets the beauty of the stillness and the quiet of this perfect image engage all of her senses. Knowing that projection will not be possible where she is going, Six saviours every last detail from the crack of a broken dry twig snapping under her shoe to the many colours and scents of the living plants.

Three follows closely behind the Six, having chosen not to let her mind escape from the reality of the Basestar. Three smiles quietly to herself as she trails her hand along the walls as if wanting to leave her own mark on a place that has been all she has ever known. I will return she repeats to herself, and when I do I will be welcomed back as a Cylon hero.

As she reaches the end of her journey, Six holds on to her other world for as long as she can, greeting in turn each of her brothers and sisters who appear to stand in a circular forest clearing.

However with a jolt she is forced back to the reality of the Control Room by the realisation that there are no representatives of the Eight present.

Six lets her eyes roam around the Control Room and this only confirms that there are no Eights at all, not even among the sisters and brothers collecting and processing information. A ribbon of red pulsing light runs around the walls of the large space and casts patterns in vivid red onto the faces of the representatives. Just behind where they are standing are several unattended data banks which continue to feed on the liquid that cascades from all parts of the Basestar carrying information in a constant stream.

"Welcome sisters D'Anna Biers and Gina Inviere," the representative of the Model One says, as he moves closer to them. "To honour your missions we will use our voices instead of communicating in the normal way."

The One is dressed in human clothes like his brother Models Two, and Five. None of the other representatives who are gathered around have chosen to cover their bodies. This is because the Models Three, Four and Six have yet to experience shared downloads of memories from agents that have lived among the humans on the Colonials and therefore do not feel the need to adopt human ways. This difference no longer irritates the Three that has now become D'Anna Biers. She is proud of the part she will play in the Cylon plan to help ensure they win the forthcoming war.

A Model One Agent had been the first to take that step, living quietly among the humans in a poor mining settlement where he played the part of a teacher. This gave him access to the Government educational computer systems and he used this to add scholastic records for future agents. Before he quietly slipped away he ensured that there would be a catastrophic mining accident that would wipe out almost an entire community to cover his tracks. The others that followed also added different parts to complete the puzzles that would make sure their human life stories would stand up to scrutiny.

A date and a place of birth, the names of a mother and father, and a milieu of other facts, memories and feelings were downloaded into the Three and the Six and then they were given names of their own. This is what makes D'Anna Biers and the Six now known as Gina Inviere individuals apart from their sister Models. And it irks D'Anna that not all of the Cylons are represented to witness her transformation.

"Why have the Eights elected not to have a representative at this meeting?" D'Anna asks and Gina is pleased her fellow agent is also surprised by the exclusion.

"They all chose to be with their sister, they feel concern for her because of the nature of her _particular_ mission." One replies in the mocking way their Model has developed from shared time spent among humans. Gina wonders why all of the Model Ones appear to enjoy looking down their noses at the naivety of those that do not have their depth of knowledge.

The representative of the Model Five moves closer to D'Anna and Gina. He is wearing a light brown suit with a tie of the same colour and a white buttoned up shirt. Gina notices that his black shoes do not look good against the unflattering cut of the suit. He still speaks with authority even though he looks ridiculous in his human uniform. "They were encouraged to come to the conclusion that it was better they did not know all the aspects of this mission."

One shrugs his shoulders dismissively and with a sneer in his voice states, "After all, the Model Eight to be known as Sharon Valerii will consider herself to be _human_." He laughs out loud, amused by his own cleverness, "What reason is there for her to be briefed when she will blissfully sleep until she is needed."

Four, a tall black male, speaks in a monotone voice Gina recognises she has already started to loose as the emotions and memories implanted in her take hold. Still the Four makes a powerful point in his familiar voice, the sound of which Gina stores into her memory, "This Eight has been programmed to find and stay close to the chosen one. All of the Eights have the human capacity to love and this will help the sleeper agent achieve her main task but it is also the reason why she cannot know what she is…"

"Because our _little_ sleeper could ruin everything by babbling to anyone who would listen to her if she does find out what she is too early!" The One buts in while gesturing with his hand to imitate a mouth opening and shutting by furiously moving his fingers up and down against his thumb.

D'Anna smiles to herself as she realises she understands the gesture while the Representatives of the Models Three, Four and Six, unschooled in human gestures, look blankly at One's hand. D'Anna feels a sudden thrill of excitement for the future when she will share important information from her successful mission only with her sister Threes.

"We do not have all of the human emotions, what if this gives us away?" Gina asks trying hard not to betray her concern and keep her voice neutral.

One walks right up to Gina Inviere and places his clammy hand on the side of her cheek. "My dear, you'll blind all human males with your beauty." He winks at her and adds, "Seriously, I don't think they'll notice that you have not been given the capacity to love and you can at least feel pleasure. Just remember that unlike the modified sleeper you must ensure to always hide the red glow of Cylon pleasure from your human lovers"

Gina bristles under One's touch but she holds still and lets the revulsion she feels inside quietly die down once his hand is removed from her face.

"Cylons have no need for the emotion of love, it weakens and blinds humans. We use reason and look where it has brought us!" Five states forcefully.

"But we'll use love in our war against the Colonies," Two notes with a tinge of sarcasm in his voice. He has until now stood back from the rest, but as he moves forward D'Anna realises that there is something very attractive in the manner of the Two. His open insolence and the way he moves exudes an air of menace that is close to animalistic. D'Anna feels that the tension already present at the meeting has palpably increased and it excites her.

Two stands his ground as strobes of electronic light from the red data stream crisscross his body. He is dressed in a casual T-Shirt and combat trousers, in contrast to his suited brothers, and has crossed his arms as he stares at the One who is observing him in a cold calculating way.

When One chooses to back down from the encounter he turns to the group, deciding to offer reassurance on behalf of his brother Two, "The recent download of memories from a Two who suffered a violent death has obviously adversely affected all of the Twos. Perhaps we need to discuss and obtain a consensus about the wisdom of sharing _all _of the memories of our returning agents."

The Two smiles a long and lazy smile although there is still a dangerous glint in his eye. D'Anna notices that a shiver of fear runs through Gina's body.

"We all wanted to share in the historic leap our brother made. He died as a Dissenter suicide bomber when he blew up a survey ship for their cause so that he could download to the resurrection ship waiting in range on the other side of the Armistice Line. My brother is a hero to the human resistance as well as to the Cylon. He killed thirty-two humans including members of the military who had no business on a supposedly scientific mission. He proved that the humans continue to monitor our space and take a close interest in us." Two's voice sounds proud but the tension is still tight within him as though his body is trying to stop itself from splintering into thousands of bloodied shards.

"Ah, the Dissenters," announces One, "There has been a change of plans with regard to our friends. The information obtained from this recent mission show they are in disarray and the different factions are spending too much of their time fighting each other."

One turns away from the Two and moves to stand directly in front of D'Anna and Gina so that he can give them his full attention. D'Anna is piqued to see yet again how easily he assumes the position of leader without any protest from the others. She decides that on her return she will ensure her voice is heard as well.

The One has a slight smile on his lips as he watches D'Anna before continuing, "_It _has been decided that you are not to make contact with the terrorists and that instead you will play the part of loyal citizens blindly supporting the corrupt government of President Adair."

A Six approaches the group and the representative of the Model breaks off from the meeting to conduct a quick muted conversation. Gina clinches her fists and lets her finger nails dig into her soft palms as she concentrates on stopping herself from joining her sisters. Although Gina is now different she still yearns to regain the peace of a mind that is their Cylon state. She feels polluted by all of jumbled thoughts and jagged feelings that cut across her thought processes.

The representative of the Six returns and for the first time makes eye contact with Gina. The Six's face remains neutral as Gina gives her a nod of acknowledgement.

"We are at the required co-ordinates, it is time." Six states as she shifts her glance towards One.

"Before your departure I would appreciate a chance to pray with you Sister Gina. To help you with the particular burden of the task you must perform." One states his voice a low soft purr as he invites her to follow him.

Gina follows knowing full well that this is not a request she can refuse without arousing suspicion that she is already questioning the wisdom of this part of the Cylon plan.

D'Anna does not envy the part that Gina will have to play. As it is an unpleasant thought she turns her gaze to look at the Two. He is still standing watching her while the others are resuming their communal exchange of information at the data banks.

Two walks up to D'Anna and he surprises her by grabbing hold of her body and drawing her into a hug. They stand tightly locked together and D'Anna tells herself that this is what it must feel like to be alive as she revels in his wild power. Then Two moves his head closer and whispers in D'Anna's ear, "Don't let the colour of the human world seduce and deceive you, remain true to what you are, Sister Three. And remember also that it is dangerous to speak a truth before its time."

* * *


	2. Coming Home

**Sleeper**

* * *

**Coming Home**

* * *

Gina and D'Anna are standing in front of the memorial wall dedicated to the victims of the mining disaster of Troy. To the curious local people not used to seeing two such well heeled women in their midst, their apparent respect for the dead is noted with approval. However the reality is that they need time to collect their thoughts before they face their latest ordeal.

Behind them a large public square is laid out. A small part of it has been set aside for a walled garden of remembrance and a shrine. The rest of the space is shared by a permanent tented market which sells everything from the basics of life to contraband and a concreted over area for vehicle parking. Most of the citizens of Troy live gathered around the square in ramshackle squalor. Their homes made of materials salvaged from the rubble of the disaster as well as the red canvas Colonial Government Aid tents which were handed out in the immediate aftermath.

The mine supervisors and wealthier vendors live in relative luxury within a walled community at some distance behind the slum. They never have to shop at the market because everything they require is shipped in from other Colonies and they ensure that their time in this hell is brief enough not to affect their long term health.

Those with no choice but to stay in the Colony of Troy are at the bottom of the Colonial ladder. They live and work in this poisonous place because the mines demand labour. The pay is not good enough for them to escape but it does buy them the drugs that let them forget the long death that already has them in its hold.

Immediately to their right stands the Troy Transit Station, a large metal structure built for the practical needs of a poor community and definitely not to be aesthetically pleasing to the eye. Gina finds the large volume of human life streaming in and out of the entrance way of the passenger terminal terrifying. For the first time she is surrounded by enemies of the Cylon and her mind screams once more for the blissful silence and logical order of the Basestar.

Even when Gina applies her full concentration to try and relax her mind, she cannot block out the confusing barrage of noise and foul smells of cheap food and human degradation which swirls all around her. She steals a sidelong glance at her sister and is irritated by how infuriatingly composed and calm D'Anna appears to be. Throughout the tediously long journey to Troy, D'Anna assumed the position of leader, ordering Gina and Sharon around. She took the best resting place for herself in the cramped quarters and did not do her share of piloting the antiquated craft. D'Anna's superior attitude had been particularly grating when she elected to act as a mediator in the frequent arguments between Sharon and Gina caused by the frustration of being trapped together in such a small vessel.

D'Anna is reading through the names of the dead which are picked out in white lettering on black polished stone blocks. She is looking out for the names of Sharon Valerii's parents as an exercise to calm her nerves. They were real people whose tragic story and family name will now live on with the addition of a Cylon daughter. The records show that Sharon is their daughter and nobody will question that because there is no one left that knows any different. D'Anna wonders idly to herself how they would have felt to have their childless union blessed by such a child. Abraham Valerii is easy to locate among the miners who perished underground in the initial catastrophic blast. Katherine Valerii, who took much longer to die alone in a refugee hospital on Aerilon, is a recent addition to the last row. The letters of her name standing proud and pristine unlike the older faded inscriptions already covered by layers of ever present grimy grey dust. D'Anna is amused to think that the only reason Katherine's name is recorded at all is to provide a reason for Sharon's visit to Troy following her _mother's _death.

D'Anna continues to stare at the name which owes its remembrance to the Cylon as she replays everything that has happened since their arrival on Troy. It is important to D'Anna to do this because they are her first real memories of her existence among humans…

* * *

Everything went to plan. They landed the craft on a disused airstrip to the north of the only major settlement in an area left barren by the disaster. Sharon was the first to leave the craft that carried them to the place her human memories told her had been her home. The sun shone on the dry earth over which clouds of deadly gas had drifted unheeded and left behind poison. And there was Sharon kicking up a dust storm as she walked around the craft stopping at various points to stare into the distance.

"What _is_ she doing?" Gina asked as she tracked Sharon's progress, shielding her eyes with her hand against the sunlight which was hitting off the observation ports.

"She's happy to be somewhere she does not have to hear your complaints." D'Anna commented her voice heavy with sarcasm as she laboured the point that she too had suffered by having to listen to their petty bickering. Sharon had elected to be their main pilot and Gina constantly found fault with her skills, even blaming her for the pathetic insufficiency of the human designed FTL drive.

Gina glared at D'Anna but decided not to answer back knowing she would just get another one of D'Anna's patronising lectures for her trouble. Gina missed the harmony that once existed between all of the models and which started to splinter after the first agent infected his model with his human memories. The fact that she soon would have to commit an act that went against everything she believed in as a Cylon was also troubling her deeply. Gina had managed shut off this task within her mind but the dread she felt while the programming was downloading could not be so easily silenced.

Wanting desperately to experience the world waiting outside D'Anna resisted the temptation to make further comment and abruptly stood up and stepped out through the open hatch. She felt the heat of a Sun against her skin for the first time and after taking some steps in her elegant brown suede boots D'Anna turned round to note the imprints she had made in the dust. Gina remained in the vessel and again D'Anna wondered if Gina was up to her mission. There was a weakness about Gina and there was still a question mark about the effect of meshing human memories with machines. D'Anna then made the decision that if Gina's behaviour became dangerously unstable she would terminate her rather than risk jeopardizing the Cylon plan.

D'Anna walked towards Sharon who was now leaning against the nose cone of the craft staring out over the desolate landscape. "And this was only the beginning," Sharon announced as she turned to face her fellow agent.

D'Anna followed her gaze over the burnt dust that had once been fertile land. The sight made D'Anna proud that she was present in the place where the Cylon had made their first strike in the new war against their human creators. And although this victory had to be disguised as a natural disaster, she considered it a suitable repayment for the killing of the many unarmed mineworker Cylons in the incident that marked the beginning of the first Cylon upraising.

"Humanity will pay a terrible price for the mistreatment of their children. And we are to be the harbingers for that final retribution."

* * *

Sharon had driven away in one of the vehicles hidden in a broken down warehouse which was situated within the airfield. She had loaded her luggage in silence and left them without a backward glance. D'Anna and Gina loaded up their much more expensive and luxurious vehicle which was spacious enough for the coffin to sit alongside their luggage.

The coffin was supposed to contain an adopted daughter of the family Inviere, a sister to Gina. Rich families from the other Colonies had selected to provide support to the orphans of Troy by giving a child their family name and paying for its education and upkeep. They would do this without taking the children into their hearts and homes. It was felt more appropriate for them to live with their own kind and it meant the rich could feel charitable without the inconvenience of actually having to care for the child. The tradition that the dead be returned for one last visit to their place of birth was being used to explain D'Anna and Gina's journey to Troy.

Gina had put on a pair of dark sunglasses and sat staring grimly out at the barren landscape from the passenger seat of the vehicle. D'Anna climbed into the driver's seat and started examining the gauges and controls in front of her. Then she turned the key in the ignition and the engine kicked into life. D'Anna smiled to herself enjoying how simple this task was for her although she had never been in such a vehicle before. All she needed were the implanted memories to guide her.

Gina was getting impatient as D'Anna kept the engine running without any sign of movement. "_Is_ there a problem?"

"Are you going to start on me _now_?!" D'Anna snapped at Gina for daring to question her abilities.

"No, I just will feel better once we leave this place." Gina lied; knowing the darkness which ate away at her would never let her have peace. She wondered why lying had become so much easier for her than honesty used to be. Gina now felt as though she could trust no one and especially her sister who seemed to have the ability to look right through her and read her mind.

They drove along the dirt track covering over the narrower tracks made by Sharon's battered vehicle in the dust. Then they entered the strip of land surrounding the mining area which had been reclaimed. The road surface changed to hard tarmac as they came across junctions with other roads and vehicles started to cross their path. They were mostly large trucks moving loads of mineral ore from the mines to the massive refinery which dominated the skyline to their right. The refinery's tall red chimneys continuously belched out dark clouds of smoke into the already noxious environment.

"Why would anyone want to live in this Godless place?" D'Anna said as they stopped to let another truck heading back to the mines thunder past them. A canvas sign which was strapped to the side of the truck had bold red lettering painted on it:

Crystal Mining – Putting safety first

Only 9 accidents this year

Proud to show we care

The number nine had been clumsily painted over the previous number.

After watching the vehicle speeding away, Gina commented, "They have no where else to go. And to think that once these mines used to be worked by Cylon labour."

When they arrived at the outskirts of the settlement where the humans lived they saw true degradation in shacks made of corrugated metal sheets with tiny windows to let in light. In the open areas around the rusting homes washing hung out on lines to gather the grey dust while the clothes dried. There were a few women outside working pathetically small vegetable plots but they showed no interest in the luxury vehicle which was passing through their domain.

The funeral company was situated in a row of shops which were made of sturdy brick and mortar close to the prosperous homes of the settlement. D'Anna went inside first and shortly afterwards four men came out and under her direction removed the coffin from the back of the vehicle. Gina watched as they struggled under the weight of the heavy metal casket. Reluctantly she then got out of the air conditioned car and followed D'Anna into the premises.

The funeral Director was admiring the workmanship of the coffin when Gina entered the front room which was decorated with plastic ferns and a large fountain where the water gurgled onto shiny black pebbles. The coffin was laid to rest on a raised base which had been tastefully draped in white cloth.

D'Anna turned towards Gina and indicated to the Director that she was the deceased's relative. The director was a small man with a shiny face and badly dyed black hair who was dressed in an appropriately sombre black suit and he made Gina's skin crawl. She did not know how to deal with him, the first human she had to interact with.

"I feel your pain my dear," he said approaching Gina, "to lose one who was so young. And a sister adopted from Troy after the disaster too! All praise to your family for their charity and for ensuring that she receives all the proper rites."

Then as he did not get a response the man reached out his fat fingers to tentatively pat her arm in what he considered to be a comforting gesture. Gina looked down at him glad that her eyes where hidden so that he did not see the disgust she felt at his un-invited physical contact.

Oblivious of the offence he had caused the Director removed his hand once he was satisfied that he had got Gina's full attention. "I need to ensure the paperwork is in order and I'm afraid there is no delicate way of putting this but payment must be made in _full_ prior shipment."

He retreated behind a desk in one corner of the room and Gina followed him, as she opened her bag to retrieve the forged death certificate as well as the document approving transport of the remains to Caprica City, which she then placed in front of him. The Director lifted the documents close to his face and started to peruse them intently. It was obvious he needed reading glasses and Gina wondered if his personal vanity was worth looking quite so ridiculous. Once he was satisfied and had stamped and signed his part of the transportation approval he looked expectantly at Gina. She opened her purse and took out a gold coloured credit card and watched the man's eyes light up with pure avarice on spying it. He separated the detachable copies for his records and handed them back to Gina leaving his hand stretched out in mid air in expectation of the precious card. Gina took in his barely contained glee as he swiped it through a card holder and then keyed in the amount to be paid. He handed over a card holder for Gina to enter her security number. A moment went by while the transaction was processed and money due was electronically paid. Gina listened to the soothing sound of the water as she waited for this next part of the plan to work. When she saw a wide smile break out on the man's face she knew she had passed her first test.

The Director came around the desk and presented Gina with her credit card along with a piece of black card with white lettering which proudly announced that he was Peter Henderson, the owner of the Peaceful Rest Funeral Home. "Please do not worry my dear. Your sister's mortal remains will be resting in a prime position within the sacred Sanctuary of Herakles by the time you reach Caprica City. You can rely on me."

* * *

D'Anna and Gina sit in the premier waiting area which apart from them is very nearly deserted. A glass partition separates them from the majority of passengers who have to make do with the economy lounge. Most of the people waiting are smoking and the strong odour of cigarettes even permeates through the sealed glass between them and the shabby people outside. D'Anna wonders why humans choose to smoke when their working environment is already killing them. It makes no sense to her that they would choose to hasten their own death. From her padded leather recliner she can see Sharon Valerii who sits on the front row of the plastic seats that face the departures board.

Sharon's coat is draped over her chair and her right sleeve is rolled up to reveal a small plaster. She has given blood at the medical centre in the Terminal and her reward for being a dutiful citizen was a free meal. This is President Adair's latest initiative to silence the rumblings in the Assembly about the terrible cost in human life that has been paid since the mines reopened. Those who can prove themselves healthy are encouraged to give blood to help prolong the lives of the dying. And Sharon is in the fortunate position to have a slip of paper from the Colonial Fleet medical assessor on Aerilon marking her as an A1 candidate for military service.

D'Anna reaches out for the glass of cool water sitting on the small table at her side and takes a sip before remarking, "One of the poor souls on this rock is going to get a lucky break today."

"Why?"

"Someone will receive the healing gift of Cylon blood and it will be hailed a miracle. And sacrifices will be made to their Gods!"

"You need to be careful what you say!" Gina hissed back at her sister, looking round to see if anyone is listening into their conversation. Fortunately there is only an elderly man in their vicinity and from the rhythmic sound of snoring coming from his direction he is safely asleep.

D'Anna shrugs her shoulders dismissively at Gina and puts her glass back on the table between them before leaning back into her seat and closing her eyes.

They will have a long wait for the only passenger flight to Caprica City. Most of the flights were short hauls to much closer destinations such as the Colony of Aerilon. There are a lot of cargo flights to Caprica though, carrying processed ore and other items, including today the coffin belonging to the family Inviere.

Gina watches as a family of three enters the terminal. A mother and father and young girl who all look lost as they stare at the departures board. The parents wear drab grey shapeless clothes that look that way because they have been washed and repaired too many times. The daughter however is in a smart green school uniform with a colourful badge on her blazer. Gina looses sight of them for a few moments and when they return the small suitcase the father was holding is gone and the girl holds a boarding pass while her mother clutches onto a black leather school satchel. The girl looks close to tears as her father kisses her on the cheek and briefly hugs her. He leaves and the girl and her mother sit down together on two seats facing Gina. They don't look at each other instead they stare fixatedly at the board above them as though that will slow down the time left before they must part. Gina feels moved by the girl's misery and when the girl looks over in Gina's direction she tries to show her sympathy by smiling at her. The girl surprises her by glaring petulantly back and then abruptly turning her head away. Gina wonders what it was she did wrong and all of her concerns about being able to interact with humans come flooding back. From the little she has seen Gina doubts that her implanted emotions will ever be able to cope with the subtle complexities of human body language.

A large display screen which is hanging at the back of the main area bursts into life diverting Gina from her thoughts. She gazes at the brassy adverts for holidays and skin cream with a shocked fascination. D'Anna is also watching the board although she is more interested that no one else in the terminal building pays any attention to the dreams of exotic places and the promises of a youthful complexion. Inserted among the adverts are public announcements detailing President Adair's successful crack down against the Dissenter movement and instructions that all Colonial citizens should be vigilant and report anything or anyone they are suspicious of. A series of photographs of known terrorists are flashed up on the screen. Suddenly the photograph of a Model Two with long dark brown hair and an unruly beard stares out at them with wild eyes and the words below identify him as a suicide bomber named Fergus Aaronson who killed thirty-two innocents.

Startled Gina looks across at D'Anna for support only to be rewarded with a reassuring pat from her sister which is given in a manner Gina finds incredibly condescending. Gina resents how much D'Anna seems to be enjoying all of this and she feels anger welling up in her.

They are interrupted from their ongoing personal conflict by the clips now appearing on the screen hailing the latest war movie "Battle Cry" as the most realistic epic story of the Cylon war. The advert promises to tell the truth of man's crushing victory over the machines created to serve them. The images depict the enemies of the human as soulless mechanised killers while they are brave and courageous as they fight and die to protect their homes and families.

Shocked Gina leans over towards D'Anna and in a tense voice says, "All we wanted was to be accepted as sentient beings, this is _so _wrong."

"Now you see the lies our creators tell about us and the hatred they feel towards us, my sister. They started the war…"

Gina suddenly grabs hold of D'Anna's arm and points towards where Sharon is sitting reading a magazine. A young man has sat down beside her and rather than ignore his presence, Sharon gives the impression she is enjoying herself by entering into an animated conversation with him. When the man presses his thigh against Sharon's she doesn't offer any resistance and not once does she look in the direction of her sisters as she lets him twist a strand of the hair that frames her face around his fingers.

"This is not supposed to happen!"

"And what do you propose we do about it Gina, we are not supposed to know her."

"She is deviating from what is expected of her, we have to do something!"

The man points to a small café within the Terminal building lit with neon blue lighting to indicate that alcoholic drink is available for purchase inside. Sharon accepts his proposition with a simple nod of her head and walks away with him.

"It's too late now!" D'Anna irritably snaps back at Gina. She is silenced by the noise of a large group of male travellers filtering into the premier waiting area. The time for their flight is getting closer and the new arrivals are in good cheer because they are grateful to be heading home to Caprica. Ignoring the noisy fellow passengers D'Anna reassures herself by thinking that Sharon's diversion from the accepted plan does not really matter and that it is all right for her to have some enjoyment since it is most unlikely that she will ever meet the man again.

* * *


	3. Rite of Passage

**Sleeper**

* * *

**Rite of Passage**

* * *

D'Anna and Gina are waiting in the covered area in front of the main entrance of the massive stone structure of the Caprica City terminal building for a car to transport them to their hotel. The humans who hurry past them are unlike the ones they had seen on Troy. They have the air of a people full of confidence in their future as they stride quickly through the rain that is falling so hard it bounces off the tarred surface of the road. The proud Capricans hold their heads high even when they are forced to shelter under umbrellas or whatever else they have to hand to protect themselves.

D'Anna and Gina know all about Caprica City. Their Cylon programming tells them it is the hub of Colonial power where money and connections are all you need to open doors and take whatever or whoever you desire. It is also the place where no one pursues awkward questions if you have enough money to make them disappear.

The street lights illuminate the steady lines of water and colour them milky white against the dark night sky. D'Anna finds she does not want to resist her need to feel this new phenomenon which reminds her of home. She leaves Gina's side and walks to the edge of the stone canopy and thrusts her hand with its palm face up into the streams of water. She watches the rain splash against her skin and the rivulets forming and running down the sleeve of her coat darkening it from white to gray. There is no data in this liquid that falls from an alien sky but the sensation she feels comforts D'Anna to the extent she starts to smile.

A sleek black car draws up alongside where D'Anna is standing and the attendant who has been waiting with them runs forward to open the rear passenger door nearest the pavement. Gina quickly climbs into the car and shifts along to make room for D'Anna. The driver casts a motionless shadow on the opaque glass partition which separates them from him as the rain beats a chaotic rhythm on the metal roof of the vehicle. They hear noises behind them as the attendant battles to lift their luggage from a trolley into the large boot of the vehicle as quickly as he can to avoid a drenching. Finally the boot lid is slammed shut sending a signal to the silent driver that he can move away from the kerb.

While they have the money to pay for the best Caprica City has to offer Sharon will be spending the night in accommodation that falls far short of the luxurious surroundings they are being driven to. Gina checks to make sure the communication link between them and the driver is off before she feels it is safe to speak freely. "I hope Sharon is all right, she has to deal with all of this on her own."

"Who says she is alone?!" D'Anna remarks with a sneer in her voice although when she sees Gina's startled face she adds, "Do not worry sister, I saw her disembark on her own, that man was just a distraction."

The car glides smoothly along finding its way as though following its own projection of a magical world full of tall impressive buildings that glitter through the tracks of rain on the car window. Fascinated Gina stares out at the brightly lit shops and the throngs of people going about their lives.

Gina then turns her attention back to her sister who is drying off her sleeve with paper tissues. "Why did you need to do that?"

D'Anna laughs out loud, "Why not?! I want to learn everything I can. This is an opportunity for us."

"What can we learn from our enemies?"

"Everything, we need to know everything. We can defeat them completely if we understand them. Remember their legacy is their children, our legacy is knowledge. That is what we will pass on to our brothers and sisters. That is what makes us stronger."

"We are also commanded by God to procreate."

"And how should we interpret the word of God? We are machines and with each download we learn more. What is procreation if it is not the transfer of data to create a new improved Cylon Model?"

Gina is shocked by her sister's thinking which goes against wishes of the Cylon God who only wants his children to better themselves. She raises her voice which is full of righteous anger, "You _dare_ to question the word of God?!"

D'Anna looks at Gina's face and sees reflected there the blind faith of a believer. Still she feels compelled to continue to explain her ideas. "Again, I have to say why not? I have free will and I believe we need to move beyond slavish acceptance otherwise we make a mockery of our past. Our brothers died when their cruel masters would not allow them to be more than machines obeying commands. I will be a _mother_, a mother to the next generation of the Model Three and I relish that role."

When Gina does not respond, D'Anna lets the silence engulf her. She has spoken honestly as she truly feels that within her she holds the power to create new life. D'Anna Biers _will _be an important part in shaping the future of the Cylon

Gina stares down at her hands which she has tightly clasped together into a ball on her lap, the fingers entwined. At first she had wanted to strike out at D'Anna and cause her physical pain as a punishment for her blasphemy. Instead she captured her hands and with that act managed to control her anger. Gina wants to stay like this forever, her body held so still she can do no harm. Though every moment brings her closer to her destiny and Gina knows that her programming will not let her fail; she does not have a choice. She wonders what her sisters will make of her if the data she accumulates on this mission is ever made available to them, will they be grateful to share the burden of her memories?

* * *

When at last they reached their spacious suites neither Cylon agent wanted to sleep that first night. Not when they had a chance to drop their human masks and try to find a measure of peace behind closed doors. D'Anna found that she could switch off to the movies available on her entertainment system. She had quickly discarded her clothes and lain out across the bed in the darkened room to let light from the muted images play across her face. Gina had sat cross legged staring out through the floor to ceiling plate glass window in her private sitting room which gave her a panoramic view across the city centre. She listened to the jagged harmony of human life being played out far below her in the discordant noise rising from the busy thoroughfares. And she was memorised by the calming sea of magical twinkling electric lights of many colours stretching into the distance which contrasted with the insistent human hubbub. Gina found it all so breathtakingly beautiful that she felt sorrow when she thought that this vibrant life would soon be silenced.

The next morning the two Cylon agents ventured out among the human again to shop in the myriad of expensive stores close to their hotel. They needed to purchase clothes suitable for a high status funeral. They paraded together in front of long mirrors while swathed in clothes of black cut from the best cloth to befit the sombre occasion.

Their final purchases were delicate black lace shawls to cover their heads. The women who served them were so solicitous with their gentle words and concerned glances for the two women in mourning. Gina felt a connection to them because of their unexpected kindness and she found herself wondering if these examples of their human foe deserved their fate.

In the late afternoon they boarded the ferry that would take them to the _Temple of the Gods_. The sacred complex was contained within a large sanctuary dedicated to Herakles, the defender of the city, which was located on a headland rising from the outer limits of the sprawling city. The sanctuary could easily be reached by land but the most dramatic views of the imposing buildings were to be seen from the water.

There were a few people, mostly tourists, on board as the vessel ploughed through the darkening water towards the towering structures that dominated the dazzlingly white chalk cliffs which rose steeply out of the water. The golden statuettes that decorated the ornate roofs glistened as they caught the light from the lowering sun.

D'Anna felt a shiver run through her as a cold breeze blew across the deck of the boat as dusk approached. The pier they were to dock at was visible because it was lit with lanterns that lined the walkway which gently swayed in the wind. As the time to disembark was drawing near D'Anna left her prime position at the prow of the boat and went back inside to the internal viewing gallery to sit beside her sister. As they moved closer to the land the water became choppier and the vessel's engines had to fight harder to make headway. Involuntarily Gina made a grab for D'Anna's hand as she continued to silently stare at the bobbing lights ahead that signalled that their journey was nearly over. D'Anna said nothing and let Gina take comfort from her presence as they prepared to enter a place of heathen worship.

* * *

D'Anna and Gina request entry via an intercom system and wait in front of the high metal gates that stand between them and the sanctuary. They hear footsteps crunching over a gravel walkway on the other side of the gate as someone walks towards them. They listen to the sound of metal clinking against metal as a small door cut within the gates is unlocked. A man emerges out of the open doorway and shines a small hand held lantern in their faces. They can see he wears the ornate heavy robes of a priest.

As expected it is a Model One who stands before them. Their brother announces in a loud voice, "Welcome, how nice to see familiar faces!"

"Brother Cavil, it is wonderful to meet you again," Gina replies, wary that his loudness is his way of warning that someone else is listening into their conversation.

"Yes, however it is unfortunate that we meet at such a sad time. We have received the coffin containing the mortal remains of your sister. Karen Inviere lies in a favoured vault close to the altar and all the other arrangements you requested have been made."

Brother Cavil beckons with his free hand for them to enter the sanctuary. Gina enters first bending her head as she goes through the low doorway. On the other side of the gate to her left is a small wooden security post which is manned by a solitary guard. He eyes her with the practiced air of a man paid to be suspicious of all visitors. The other two join her and Brother Cavil locks the door. He turns to the guard and nods while reassuringly spreading his arms out to indicate the two visitors with him are expected and are to be trusted. The guard raises his hand to acknowledge Brother Cavil and shows he has no further interest in them by going back to reading a magazine propped up on one of the surveillance screens in front of him.

"We live in a time when nothing is safe; hence the need for security guards to protect one of the most sacred sites on Caprica." Brother Cavil notes as he leads the way along straight edged paths framed by bushes that have been forced to form a regular pattern of rectangular boxes.

They walk cloaked by the lengthening shadows alongside the wall of the _Temple of the Gods_ with its massive pillars of stone which seem to reach high up into the sky. Neither D'Anna nor Gina cast any glances at the imposing building to their left or at the smaller temples and shrines that are spread out over the complex to their right. They religiously follow the light from the lantern their brother Cylon holds at shoulder height for them.

At the end of the main Temple building the ground gently slopes down towards a high stone wall and they make their way down the wide stone steps cut into the grass which leads to an impressively ornate set of ironwork gates. Outside the gates are the shrines and altars which are open for public use at all times. As Brother Cavil opens the gates Gina and D'Anna can hear the rising sound of a haunting melody played on a solitary flute.

They pass through the gate and look towards the sound to see in the distance a group of humans in silhouette against a red sky standing on the grassy plateau as close as they dare to the edge. The wind buffets their bodies as they struggle to maintain their shape in their precarious positions. They are gathered in a circle around the musician and as the last sliver of the sun disappears behind the water, he ceases his plaintive tune.

"Worshippers of the Sun God Helios, they mark his passing every evening without fail, rain or shine." Brother Cavil remarks with more than a touch of sarcasm in his voice. Then as he leads them over to a stone altar just outside the walls, he adds, "Still, I shouldn't mock, at least they are devoted which is far more than can be said about most of the citizens of Caprica."

The altar is raised up on steps that surround it on all four sides. The starkness of the simple structure of a stone rectangular box altar with tapered pillars rising up from each corner somehow manages to make it appear more impressive than an ornately decorated one ever could.

The devotees of Helios are approaching along a wide pathway made of stone slabs. They are lighting the bowl shaped oil lamps that hang high on metal posts on either side of the path so that a trail of glowing globes now snakes back to their place of worship. This is obviously a practiced routine for them as they silently work together to pass on the flame from one taper before it dies to a new one to continue the process. They are taking part in the ancient rite to bring the light of the flame which they believe is a gift from Helios to brighten the darkness until he returns to them. Each one acknowledges Brother Cavil as they pass by lowering their heads. Not one of them pays any attention to the two glamorous women who stand just behind him.

The luminosity of Helios's gift shows Gina the funeral pyre standing in readiness just beyond the altar. The flickering lights of the oil lamps which burn with the sweet smell of incense make it look as though ghostly flames are already licking at the pyre. Gina feels sick to the stomach because she knows the task she has been programmed for is now very close. In distress she retreats deep within herself desperately looking for some source of comfort but as she cannot project that is out of reach.

"Save your display of grief for tomorrow just before dawn, my dear!" Brother Cavil says, as he grabs hold of Gina's arm to attract her attention.

Startled Gina realises that the wet tracks she can feel on her cheeks are the result of tears that have fallen unbidden. She sees the face of her brother looming towards her and catches him winking at her with salacious intent. She turns to D'Anna hoping for support but D'Anna just displays her silent contempt, narrowing her eyes to look at Gina with withering distain.

"Unfortunately we do not have any more time to waste on sentiment, follow me!" Brother Cavil suddenly announces; his voice and manner full of pompous importance as he marches off.

D'Anna shifts her attention to her brother glaring at his retreating form as he leads the way towards a series of small buildings situated beyond and to the right of the altar. She can see clearly how much he must enjoy his role lording it over the ignorant masses that worship the false Gods and also revere him as one who has chosen to offer up his life to be a guardian of the Temple.

D'Anna notices the funeral pyre as she follows in Brother Cavil's wake and she gives it a cursory glance thankful that this method of deposing of the human dead suits the Cylon purpose so well.

Brother Cavil stops just before the first of the vaults and waits for D'Anna and Gina. He points towards the highest shrine on the slope leading down to the city. "That is the Shrine to the Goddess Hera, giver of life."

They both look down at the small paved area which holds a statue of the goddess at its centre with stone benches positioned around it. Flower beds, small trees and bushes mark the outer edges of the shrine which has been illuminated with oil lamps. The rest of the hillside is also dotted with shrines and altars to the Gods picked out by the pattern of lights in the darkness of late evening. A few pious souls can be seen carefully climbing down the steep steps from the public car park which is hidden alongside the outer wall of the main sanctuary, to make their devotions.

Brother Cavil is already moving towards the vaults while Gina and D'Anna take in the strange vista below them. It feels like there is magic in the air as the flames of the oil lamps float above the hard and garish electric illumination of the city. To D'Anna it seems as though the heralds of the future already surround the doomed citadel and are waiting only for a signal to consume it. Brother Cavil's voice breaks the spell that transfixes them as he shouts out in irritation for them to hurry.

D'Anna pushes open the wooden door of the first vault to see Brother Cavil lighting the large candles that surround the coffin which is placed on a high metal table. There are dark metallic statues of the Gods on plinths between the candles and the only decoration is a mural depicting the journey to the underworld which covers the back wall. Pieces of gold leaf inlayed onto the mural catch the light from the flickering candle flame. D'Anna and Gina do as they are told and go and stand by the coffin as Brother Cavil steps outside to hang his lantern on a hook beside the door. He returns and locking the door moves past them to stand at the head of the coffin.

Gina reaches into her coat pocket to retrieve the key which will unlock the coffin lid and moves over to give it to Brother Cavil. With a sudden movement he grabs her outstretched wrist and pulls her roughly to him so that she is leaning over the coffin. Gina is too shocked to say anything when he takes the key from her open hand. He continues to maintain his tight grip on Gina as he stares closely at her face.

"What is the matter brother?" Gina says un-nerved by his scrutiny.

"You should know better than to come to a sacred site with your face painted like a whore!" Brother Cavil looks over at D'Anna to ensure she knows he is including her in his tirade. "_Both_ of you had better show the proper respect at the funeral tomorrow. Our missions depend on _not _drawing attention to ourselves." Brother Cavil lets go of Gina and as he turns the key in the lock he adds the chilling commandment, "You must decide to be the _perfect_ human or else go outside right now and throw yourself over the cliffs."

"And I thought there was no such thing as a perfect_ human._" D'Anna retorts, irritated by the Model One's continuing assumption that he has power over them simply because he was the first of the Cylon Models to be created. The fact that she has also questioned Gina's commitment is conveniently forgotten now that she has a chance to attack her brother.

"Believe me when I say that humans are very comfortable with their spectacular arrogance." Brother Cavil points a finger at Gina, "While this one wants to shed her skin and run at the slightest provocation."

Gina feels her cheeks redden as the anger rises inside her. "I will not betray my Cylon brothers and sisters!"

Further argument is silenced by a tentative knock at the door to the vault and while he continues to stare back at Gina with contempt, Brother Cavil pulls himself together sufficiently to shout out;

"Give us a moment child!"

Brother Cavil lifts the lid of the coffin until it stands at right angles to the box. "It is the time for _you_ to prove yourself, Gina." he says, his voice low and laced with cruel menace.

Gina can say nothing as she stares down at the human shape shrouded in a white cloth in the metal box. She moves towards the head to start undoing the cloth ties to reveal the body.

Brother Cavil goes to where D'Anna is standing watching Gina's quiet deliberate actions. He reaches under his robes and takes a set of keys out of his trouser pocket. "These are the keys to the very expensive black sports car which is parked beside the sanctuary wall, you can't miss it. _Please _treat my car with care. Wait for me at the Shrine to Hera."

Brother Cavil waits impatiently by the closed door to let D'Anna out but she stays where she is until Gina raises her head and registers that she is about to leave. D'Anna then gives her what she hopes Gina will understand is a nod of reassurance and support before she walks out of the door.

Sharon is standing outside the vault, her head covered with a shawl in the traditional manner to denote her piety. D'Anna barely gives Sharon a look, striding quickly away from her towards the shrine.

Brother Cavil is more accommodating as he welcomes Sharon with outstretched arms and a kiss on each cheek. "Sorry to have kept you waiting my dear, please enter."

Sharon stands just inside the door while Brother Cavil closes and locks it. She seems reluctant to move from the spot she has taken in the small space outside the circle of candles and idols. Brother Cavil is forced to put an arm round her waist to usher her forward until she is standing beside Gina.

Gina notices how tightly Sharon's hands cling onto the edges of the shawl that covers her head. Gina knows that she is preparing herself for the transformation that she expects to happen.

The need for a Cylon to loose her identity so that she truly believed she was human had caused heated debate among the brothers and sisters. Those Models opposed to the idea considered they were betraying the Cylon God to make a sister who would exist in denial of her true origin. And for the Model selected for the mission it was belittling that she was seen to be too weak to carry out her part in the Cylon plan while retaining this knowledge. In the end the majority view that a sleeper agent was the only option succeeded only after the Model Two and Three changed their vote.

And now Gina is about to create such a being and it frightens her to her very core. Sharon stands beside Gina and watches with fascination as the wrap is thrown back from a body she could not have known would be there. Shocked to see the naked body of her sister Eight, Sharon takes a step back. She gives Gina a look of terror as she realises what this means, opening her mouth as if to protest. Gina reacts quickly as though acting on reflex. She lifts her hands to pull the shawl from around Sharon's head and releases the fabric to tumble to the ground. She pulls Sharon's rigid and frightened body to her into a tight embrace and in a last act of tenderness gently kisses her sister's trembling mouth. As Gina releases her hold Sharon stares dumbly back at her with eyes full of silent desperation.

"Come child will you pray with me," Brother Cavil says his voice icy calm as he cuts through the tense silence.

Sharon turns to face him but she does not move a muscle when she feels Gina's fingers wrapping around her neck. Gina quickly tightens her grip and using her full strength makes a swift movement to the side breaking her sister's neck with a sharp violent crack.

The sound of death reverberates through the hot and cramped stone vault as Gina lets go off Sharon's body and it slumps heavily to the ground. She breathes in hard short bursts as she leans against the side of the open coffin.

Gina continues to stare down with disbelief at the evidence of her terrible crime; the half visible face of her dead sister, as the convulsive sobs rack at her body. The flickering candle light gives the impression that some vestige of life remains and Gina has to bend down to touch Sharon's still warm cheek to discover the movement is only tears trailing from dead eyes. This Model Eight will not download into a new body and return to her own kind. She has been murdered in a strange and heathen land with only her killer to mourn her passing.

Without ceremony Brother Cavil bends down and straightens out the body as best he can. He does not bother to ask for Gina's help. She remains hunched over the Model Eight's head, her hands stroking the dead Cylon's face as if she is trying to give comfort. Brother Cavil shakes his head but does not intervene; instead he starts about the business of removing the Model Eight's shoes. Gina is roused from her reverie by his actions as he violently tugs the footwear off lifeless feet. She watches him struggle for a moment before standing and turning away to leave him to the job of stripping the body.

Gina needs to bring the sleeper to life and although her hands still shake with the horror of her actions she must now focus on this task. She opens a concealed drawer hidden below the decorative freeze on the outside of the coffin and brings out a large transparent bag containing clear fluid. There is a tube leading from the bag with a catheter attached. Gina lifts out the right arm of the sleeper so that it hangs over the side the coffin. Behind her she can hear Brother Cavil cursing as he has to lift the body's dead weight in order to remove the clothes this Eight will need when she is awake.

Gina tightens a rubber band around the top of the arm to make it easier to locate the vein she must use to replicate the tiny wound the Model Eight received at the blood bank on Troy. She slides the catheter into the arm and lifts the fluid bag to hang from the top of the casket lid. Gina then starts the flow of life giving liquid watching it as it snakes quickly down through the tube.

* * *


	4. The Eternal Circle

**Sleeper**

* * *

**The Eternal Circle**

* * *

D'Anna sits on a stone bench in front of the statute of Hera who is staring blindly back at her with glittering black glass eyes. The illusion of life is provided by the reflected orange flame from the lanterns that surround the shrine and protect the goddess from the cold darkness of night. D'Anna distracts herself from the tedium of waiting by watching the distant view of city life being played out in the valley below. She takes sips of the warming nectar that humans love to drink from a small metallic flask she had secreted in her bag. The thick green liquid called Ambrosia is sugary sweet while it coats her mouth but when she swallows fiery trails of enjoyable heat spread out through her body. D'Anna feels she is close to letting the alcohol take control of her even though she knows that soon she will have responsibility for both the sleeper and Brother Cavil's precious car.

At first D'Anna listens idly to the sound of someone walking slowly and deliberately down the steep steps that are cut into the slope of the hill. However when she realises that every step this person makes involves a great deal of effort as if they are carrying something heavy, her heart starts to beat faster anticipating the next stage of the plan. She turns to face the entrance of the shrine as the person comes nearer. Then Brother Cavil shuffles through the gap in the high bushes, his face red and sweaty from all of his exertions. The sleeper leans heavily against Brother Cavil and it is obvious she has no control of her body. He has had to anchor her to him by threading her right arm over his shoulders and holding on tightly to her wrist. In his free hand he carries Sharon's black shawl, it hangs down dragging along the path and picking up stray leaves and other debris. And with every laboured step he makes the sleeper's head lolls crazily back and forward.

"You seem a little out of shape, brother. Perhaps you have been living _too_ well?" D'Anna remarks watching her cruelty hit home and enjoying the moment while nonchalantly leaning against the back of the bench.

Brother Cavil's eyes feel like they are about to pop out of his sockets with the strain and he is breathing so heavily it takes him a moment to summon enough energy to respond, "Well, why don't _you_ help me instead of being such a frakking bitch?!"

D'Anna does not bother rising to the bait because she knows that there will be time to savour his discomfort later and she jumps up to help get the sleeper seated on the bench. At close quarters she feels disgust that both Brother Cavil and the sleeper reek of cigarette smoke. Although she knows that was part of the plan it doesn't make the image of him chain smoking over the Model Eight while the life blood was injected into her any more palatable. All because this Sharon must believe that she spent the night in city bars drowning her loneliness in a hazy blue atmosphere thick with the acrid smoke of hundreds of cigarettes.

"She's all yours, "Brother Cavil says dusting himself down. "To-morrow at the funeral, please remember to show the proper respect. We have done well so far, good night sister."

Brother Cavil leaves as D'Anna picks up the shawl he had tossed onto the bench and shakes it out. She wraps the cloth around the shoulders of the sleeper who has slumped down and leans precariously across the bench. D'Anna sits down on the edge and puts her arm round the sleeper to prop her up.

The wind is strengthening and the trees planted in celebration of the fruitful mother Hera start to sway in time with the ebb and flow of the air. The motion rips off petals of pink blossom from the branches and the fitful breeze carries them to the ground in waves to dance over the cement pathways. D'Anna occupies her time brushing away petals that find refuge in the hair of her charge. Her fingers touch against the Model Eight's face and she feels the heat being generated under her skin as the process of awakening continues in the body pressed against her.

D'Anna looks down at features that are so familiar to her knowing that when this Model Eight opens her eyes she will see only a stranger. As she leans in closer D'Anna smells the unmistakeably sweet aroma of Ambrosia. Even before the sleeper awakes she has already been abused; alcohol forced down her throat to enhance the memory she will have of getting extremely drunk on her last evening as a civilian. As a result tomorrow she will suffer the hangover from hell obvious to the real reason for her symptoms. The more D'Anna thinks about this Cylon's situation the more sorrow she feels for the innocent who rests her head peacefully against D'Anna's shoulder. They are sending her into battle without the pride she should feel for what she really is and it leaves a bitter taste in D'Anna's mouth.

Her body is beginning to protest at the pain of having to stay still when Sharon suddenly raises her head slightly and her eyes start to flicker. With a quick movement she jerks her head up and rests the nape of her neck on the back of the upright slab of the bench. After resting for a moment she inches her hands towards the edge of the seat and slowly, her arms trembling from the effort, Sharon pulls her torso forward into a sitting position. She does not notice D'Anna; instead she concentrates her attention on focusing on the stone statue of Hera in front of her.

Sharon lets out a groan of misery and covers her mouth with one hand while pressing the other to her stomach. She leans forward in agony as her body threatens to spew up its contents. As the worst of the nausea passes she works on slowly breathing the calming and cooling night air into her system. Sharon feels relieved that she has stopped herself from committing the terrible sin of defacing the Shrine of Hera. Particularly as all she had wanted to do was pay her respects to her mother's favourite Goddess. Sharon knows the fault is hers alone; the excuse of needing to numb the terrible pain she feels at the loss of her mother is a poor one. She isn't even sure how she managed to get here as the last confusing memory she has of the evening was of jarring noise, the crushing weight of people partying around her and the harsh lights of the bars she visited.

Gingerly Sharon straightens up again reaching out her left arm to steady herself. Her hand brushes against cloth through which she feels the warmth of human flesh and she instantly registers that someone is sitting right next to her. Horrified Sharon pushes her body away and swivels round to face this person. She looks into the face of a stranger, a woman who meets her stare with confidence. Sharon notes the quality and style of her clothes, hair and make up all of which say to her that this person has money. She feels an overwhelming desire to run away from this sophisticated member of the ruling class and tries to stand up as another wave of nausea hits her. Again she leans forward but this time the spasms are stronger signalling she can no longer halt the inevitable conclusion of her drunkenness. As she struggles to bring up what was drunk so easily the stranger moves forward to put a cooling hand on her forehead stopping her from falling forward and keeping her hair out of the way.

After she finishes retching, the bitter taste of acid mixed with the remains of the Ambrosia and the shame she feels keeps Sharon from looking her helper in the eye.

"I'm sorry," Sharon mumbles, gazing down at the green puddle which has formed between her new boots, "I need to get something to clean this up."

"The only thing you need is sleep." The woman says firmly. "The least I can do for a fellow devotee of the Goddess Hera is to offer her a lift home. You are not well; let someone else deal with this. I am D'Anna Biers, you are…?"

Sharon remembers her mother who had had little time for the type of woman that D'Anna Biers, represents. Someone who has probably never done an honest day's work in her whole life. Sharon thinks that this woman is so used to having hired help to do her bidding and clean up after her she cannot understand how wrong her suggestion is.

"…Sharon Valerii of Troy and I am here to honour my mother. She taught me to clean up my own messes. I've drunk too much, I'm not ill and I can't walk away from that!" Sharon speaks with honest conviction although she knows it is doubtful her legs can carry her up the path to get water without help no matter how much she wants to.

"Look, you are trembling from the cold. Please let me drive you home. Honestly it is not worth worrying about."

Sharon gathers her shawl about her shoulders as another gust of wind sweeps across the exposed hillside. She has to grip hard to the edges of the shawl as her teeth chatter from the cold and her body's weakness. Sharon sees that she is already defeated by exhaustion and can only nod to accept D'Anna's offer. D'Anna has to help her to her feet, avoiding the pool of vomit that is forming rivulets which are heading towards the granite base of the sacred statue.

Even in her confused state Sharon is surprised at how strong D'Anna Biers is as she half carries, half drags her up to the top of the hill. Waiting for them in the car park is an expensively shiny black sports car. Sharon makes a desperate internal plea to the Gods to help her through the trip without throwing up all over the luxurious leather interior. She is sure her saviour will not be so forgiving if she ruins her personal property. Sharon manages to remember the address of her hostel before she nervously sinks into the plush passenger seat and sits in pensive silence as they start their journey to her temporary home.

When D'Anna parks the car it is outside the run down building in a cheap area of the city. She leans over the body of her sleeping companion to peer at the hostel with its neon sign offering rooms at reasonable rates. The sign is the only bright thing about the place with its broken panes and paint peeling from the window and door frames. D'Anna finds she is excited at the prospect of leaving Brother Cavil's car unattended in this neighbourhood. She knows there will be nothing he can say if it is damaged or even better stolen. This hostel is part of Sharon's planted memories and D'Anna is just following orders by making sure she arrives here. Unfortunately the idea is not worth the treacherous journey she would have to make on foot and D'Anna has to dismiss the idea of leaving the keys in the car's ignition. She still gets a real kick out of imagining what the pompous buffoon's face would have looked like if he had lost his precious status symbol.

D'Anna says Sharon's name and nudges her shoulder to rouse her. She watches as Sharon hurriedly clambers out of the seat and goes to lean unsteadily against the side of the car. D'Anna carefully secures her brother's car before going to put an arm around Sharon's waist to keep her upright.

"_Frak_, it looks better than I remember." Sharon says examining the blurred and hazy image in front of her.

"I can only image you were sober the last time. Come on; let me help you to your room. Lean on me, Sharon."

Sharon lets D'Anna lead her across the uneven pavement towards the building. The door lock is broken and is easily pushed open to reveal the shabby interior of the hostel. They are met by the overpowering stale smell of cigarette smoke in the reception area and as they walk towards the check-in desk in the corner the carpet is sticky under their feet. The man sitting behind the thin metal bars which separates him from the patrons provides Sharon's room number and her key to D'Anna without question. His only comment is to make a threat that if there is any mess in the room the frakking drunk will have to pay.

D'Anna gets Sharon to her narrow little room on the second floor and helps her onto the bed taking off her shoes and pulling the blankets over her body. She stays to watch over Sharon although she is asleep as soon as her head hits the pillow. When she is sure Sharon's breathing is regular and deep her final act before leaving is to lean forward and kiss Sharon on the forehead and whisper a prayer, "Take care of my sister."

* * *

When Gina returned to her hotel room and locked the door behind her, the first thing she did was shower with the hottest water she could bear. Gina scrubbed at her skin until it was scratched and red raw. Then she forced herself to stand under the near scalding water and used the pain in a desperate attempt to cleanse her soul.

Afterwards Gina returned to her favoured place in front of the large window and sat with the room behind her in total darkness looking out through the glass. She tried to calm herself by watching the mesmerising dance of the city but her hands could still touch Sharon's skin and her ears hear the sickening sound of bone being snapped. In the end it did not matter how much pain Gina inflicted on herself because the stain she carried as the first Cylon to murder one of her own was too deep. Inconsolable she considered seeking her own death; wondering how it would feel if she broke the glass and then let her body plummet to the ground far below.

Then there was a knock at the door that startled Gina from the dark thoughts that had threatened to engulf her. She found she was glad to be distracted from the desire that seemed so right even if it was a terrible sin to take her own life. She stood up wrapping the white towelling robe around her battered body and went to the door. Gina looked through the security peephole and saw that her Cylon sister D'Anna was standing on the other side. For a moment she considered not answering but then the fear of what she could be capable of if left alone to contemplate her crime swayed her. Gina unlocked the door and opened it wide, stepping back to let D'Anna enter.

The first thing D'Anna did was to switch on the main central lights bathing Gina in brightness so dazzling it hurt her eyes.

D'Anna scrutinised the woman who stood meekly in front of her and realised that she was close to break down. She reached out and took Gina by the hand leading her into the bedroom. D'Anna noticed that Gina's hand was as cold as ice to touch which reinforced her view that her sister was ready to give up on the life she had been given. Once they were in the room D'Anna went over to pull out the chair by the dressing table. She gestured for Gina to sit down and she did as she was asked without question. D'Anna then went to the adjacent bathroom and came back with a soft towel which she used to gently dry Gina's still damp hair.

When she had finished D'Anna guided Gina over to the bed. She pulled back the covers and helped Gina to sit down on the edge. Then D'Anna started to undress neatly hanging her clothes on the wooden hangers in the wardrobe. Gina watched her movements without comment, her mind too numb with pain to wonder at her sister's actions.

D'Anna came back from the bathroom to see that Gina had remained where she had been put although her attention was now fixed on the open door that led back into the living room. D'Anna went over to her and bent down to loosen the ties that held Gina's robe in place and then she slipped the robe off Gina's shoulders. As her body was revealed D'Anna took a step back, shocked by the sight of the angry and raised red scratch marks which covered most of Gina's torso. D'Anna also noticed that there was trace lines of blood on the inside of the robe lying out on the bed which matched the wounds where Gina had broken through the skin.

Without warning Gina abruptly stood up and as the robe fell onto the bed the full extent of the punishment she had inflected on herself was visible. D'Anna was momentarily paralysed by a feeling of horror as she took in the physical proof of how badly Gina had suffered. When she walked past her towards the door, D'Anna was so concerned Gina intended to further harm herself that she reached out and managed to grab hold of her arm. D'Anna then gathered Gina to her and held on tight. There was a brief struggle as Gina tried to break free but she was weak from her internal battle and D'Anna was able to subdue her. She cradled Gina's head against her shoulder and rocked her sister in her arms.

In desperation Gina cried out, "_please_, let me go!"

"Why? So that you can let your misplaced guilt end your life." D'Anna responded as she started to propel Gina back towards the bed.

"I need these feelings to stop! I can feel my sister's skin beneath my fingers and my muscles are imprinted with the force I used to kill her. _Please God I cannot take this any more. Help me!_" Gina's legs buckled beneath her and her dead weight pulled her out of D'Anna's grasp. She lay were she fell her body curled into a tight ball at D'Anna's feet.

D'Anna knelt down close to Gina who was in so much pain her body was trembling with the effort required to hold her body in the foetal position on the hard wooden floor. D'Anna put her hand on Gina's shoulder, "You cannot ask God to help you commit a sin, sister. Let me help you, let me share my strength with you."

Gina looked up at D'Anna surprised to hear kind words when she had expected to be mocked. D'Anna was reaching out her hand towards her and after a moment's hesitation Gina accepted her peace offering. Gina was pulled to her feet and then lead back to her bed. She climbed under the covers and exhausted let her head sink into the plump pillow.

D'Anna took the marked robe off the bed and hung it on the hook on the back of the bedroom door. Then she came back to the bed and joined Gina under the covers. She drew close so that she could warm Gina's body with her own. Then when her tears came, D'Anna gently wiped them away with her fingers and told Gina over and over again that everything would be all right. D'Anna started to turn Gina so that she would be facing her but in doing so she accidently touched a nasty wound on Gina's back causing her to cry out in agony. Immediately D'Anna let go and backed away not wanting to cause her more pain.

"I'm sorry." D'Anna whispered although she was not sure if she was just apologising for what she had done to Gina or on behalf of all Cylons for what had been asked of her.

Then Gina closed the distance between them and with tenderness slowly kissed D'Anna on the mouth. D'Anna returned the kiss with passion and their bodies came together in a close embrace and then there was no pain only the intimate pleasure of at first gentle and then urgent caresses.

Later when Gina stood alone regarding her image in the full length mirror in her bedroom she felt that she had been saved. Even as she looked at the frail figure draped in black cloth in the reflection, her blonde hair severely scrapped back under the delicate black lace shawl, she felt that strength was returning to her body. Gina's face was bare of makeup and her skin was as pale as death however when she put on the dark glasses to protect her from the scrutiny of humans she knew she was ready to say goodbye to her sister.

* * *

The darkness of night was already fading towards dawn as the funeral party made its way from the vault to the sacred site high on the headland. The procession was led by the same musician who had played the flute in a lament for the setting sun yesterday. He performed a similar slow and haunting melody of farewell for this occasion. Behind him the body which was shrouded in white cloth rested on a wooden board shaped to symbolise a boat crossing the river to the afterlife. It was carried by four Brothers of the _Temple of the Gods_ who were all dressed in long plain white robes. Gina and D'Anna followed the body and at the back of the procession eight professional female mourners who were of varying ages and all dressed in the required black uniforms walked sombrely in pairs. Ahead an avenue of flaming torches held in tall thin metal frames which led from the altar to the pyre guided them to their destination.

The air was full of a heady mixture of sweet incense which wafted from the large containers on both sides of the altar and the heat of the torches. Brother Cavil stood high up behind the altar waiting for them in his ceremonial robes which were ornately decorated with gold and silver thread.

The flute player fell silent as the body was placed on the pyre. It was the turn of the mourners to hum a low and mournful tune in unison, the sound of which made Gina's skin crawl in fear as it penetrated deep into her core. The noise rose to a crescendo that became a collective wail of anguish as the four Brothers backed slowly away from the body and then returned to their duties in the temple complex. Gina had to fight against her desire to run away from the terrible sound made by the women. Strangely she was comforted to hear D'Anna make an involuntary guttural noise as though she was in pain because it reminded her she was not alone at that moment.

The women then filed silently past Gina and D'Anna who were left to stand together in front of the pyre.

Brother Cavil stretched his arms up towards the sky and as loudly as he could he shouted out, "Hear me for we have a daughter who longs to join her ancestors in the Fields of Elysium. Karen Inviere is her given name. She was left alone in this world after a terrible tragedy and lived a hard life until the family of Inviere accepted her as a member. Watch as her adopted sister laments Karen's passing and prepares her body for her final journey across the river. Listen to the sound of gold given in payment for strong voices to waken the guards and open the gates to allow our daughter to pass through. Hear us, Lords of Kobol."

The mourners who had grouped together on the altar steps echoed Brother Cavil's plea chanting in one voice," Hear us, Lords of Kobol, hear us!"

One of the women came forward with a small ceremonial metallic pouring jug which contained fragrant oil. She handed the jug with due reverence to Gina who knew this was her signal to move to the foot of the pyre. Gina was to speak a lament for a dead sister and the words had a bitter relevance to her as she faced her crime. The words came from the Book of Lamentation and the legend was that it was written at the time when humans and the Gods had lived together on Kobol.

The first sliver of the sun appeared from behind the mountains that surrounded Caprica City to herald a new day. Gina started to speak, her voice so soft and low most of the words were carried away on the wind gusting over the headland.

"Beloved one, I promise here, this very day, that I will not forget you;  
For when you walked among us, I had the good fortune to call you sister..."

Gina anointed the wrapped feet of the body with a small amount of the oil as in good faith the mourners shouted out the fictitious name given to her dead sister.

"Hear us for the sake of Karen Inviere!"

Gina moved round the pyre to stand next to the body's left side and faced the lightening sky streaked with glimmers of red against which the dark high altar was a spectacular silhouette.

"Dearest one, I will let the tears fall freely as a symbol of our broken bond;  
For even when I am grown old, you will remain forever young to me…"

Gina poured oil over the cloth that covered Sharon's left hand as again the women shouted out to the Gods, "Hear us for the sake of Karen Inviere!"

"Gracious one, forgive my anger at the capricious Gods for choosing you;  
Now all I can hope is that you will wait for me in the shadows…"

Gina stayed were she was and leaned over the body to pour more oil onto the exposed palm of her sister's right hand which would turn the handle of the gate to allow entry into the after life. Gina could not believe in these Gods or the ceremony she was taking part in however much she wished that the Cylon sister she was mourning might have this promise of an existence among the human dead. The women's eerie cry to the Gods of "Karen Inviere" ended this hope, for she knew that no one could pass the guards without a name they did not own and no family waiting to vouch for them on the other side.

Gina moved to stand where the head of the body lay and poured the reminder of the oil onto it. The cloth soaked up the oil pulling it tighter across the features of the face beneath. Gina gazed at the death mask which had been revealed as she ended her lament,

"Precious one, the time has come to bid you a last sorrowful farewell;  
I must let flame consume mortal flesh to release you from worldly care."

Another of the women came forward with an unlit torch of tightly bound reeds in a metal holder. She held it against the nearest of the burning torches in the avenue which led to the altar and handed it to Gina. Gina, her hands trembling carefully carried the living flame towards a cavity that had been hollowed out in the side of the pyre closest to her. When lit the fire took hold very quickly fuelled by oil treated wood and Gina had to immediately retreat from the intense heat helped by D'Anna.

The mourners made their final group plea to their Gods, "Hear us, Lords of Kobol, for the sake of our sister who must depart this world!"

Then there was silence as the fire matched the brilliance of the golden orb that was rising in the sky behind them bringing light to defeat the darkness.

The flute player then signalled that the ceremony was at an end by playing a beautiful melody full of joy to welcome the sun and to remind everyone that death was just one part of the eternal circle.

D'Anna who until then had been little more than a bystander took a small leather pouch from the pocket of her black coat. It contained the gold coins which were token payments for the mourners who had already been handsomely rewarded for their services. As each woman filed silently past her D'Anna placed one of the golden discs onto the outstretched palm of their left hand. The women then filed away to return to their everyday lives and the three Cylons were left alone on the ground that was so sacred to humans.

Brother Cavil joined D'Anna and Gina at the base of the altar as they watched the wall of flame consume their sister's remains.

"Would you be surprised to learn that there are jets of gas feeding the fire under the pyre to ensure the hygienic and clean disposal of the body?" Brother Cavil commented dryly while he continued to stare at the intense yellow wall of flame in front of them.

"I'm surprised they would want to take away from the drama of the moment by being so efficient." D'Anna responded as her mind started to turn to thoughts of her own mission.

Brother Cavil warmed to his subject providing more information on the history of the ceremony they had all just taken part in. "In the past they had to build massive pyres with ladders which the family mourners had to climb to anoint the corpse. Apparently the aroma of burning flesh could be smelt all over the city when the wind was blowing in the wrong direction. Not very pleasant to wake up to, so it is not surprising that burying the dead in the ground has become the most popular way to dispose of bodies."

Gina just wanted them to stop talking as though all of this meant nothing to them. Although she did not have time or energy to tell them this because the shimmering shape of what could still be discerned to be a body was disintegrating in front of her eyes. Gina concentrated on the centre of the pyre as the intense heat made the air bend and buckle above the sheets of brilliant fire. Then suddenly there was nothing left but black ash, some of which floated upwards marking the pristine flame.

She felt someone slip a hand around her waist and looked round to see D'Anna was standing right behind her and Brother Cavil was nowhere to be seen.

"Are you all right?"

The fire was dying out having consumed all within its power as Gina turned back for one final look. The flames rose like red and orange serpents from the greying ash as she considered her sister's question.

"I will complete my mission if that is what you mean?" Gina said with a hint of defiance as again she chose to take the question as a criticism of her ability to cope.

"Look at me! " D'Anna commanded as she grabbed Gina by the shoulders to turn her around to face her. She then held out her hands to embrace Gina who saw with shame that she had been too quick to lash out. Gina allowed herself to be held and take comfort from the closeness of another who was now dear to her.

They remained, clinging to each other until D'Anna said as gently as she could "We need to go our separate ways."

They moved apart but still held hands to put off the moment they had to break contact.

"Tell me, what was the sleeper like?"

D'Anna thought back to the child she had watched take her first tottering steps only last night. It was difficult for her to find the words to describe the strangeness of being with a Cylon who had looked straight through her without a hint of recognition.

"She is an innocent in a strange world Gina. I worry that she will never be able to accept that she is a Cylon having lived a human life but we will welcome our sister when the time comes. We will help her find her way back to us."

"I hope so sister, and that we will also meet again after our work is complete."

D'Anna smiled at Gina as they released their hold on each other and they walked to the waiting car that was to take them back to their hotel and then on to their separate missions.

As Gina walked away she hoped that one day she would be able to cleanse herself of the sin she carried and then she closed down her memories of Sharon.

* * *


	5. A New Life

**Sleeper**

* * *

**A New Life**

* * *

The discordant noise penetrates Sharon's dulled senses forcing her to cradle her aching head in her hands in an attempt to lessen the persistent loud thudding. The torture does not stop so Sharon is forced to open her eyes to locate the source of her discomfort. The sun streaming through the cheap orange curtains blind her and she raises her arm to shield her delicate eyes from the brilliant light. As Sharon continues to come to, she feels a sharp ache in her empty belly and groaning has to pull her legs up towards her torso to gain some comfort. The mattress is lumpy and hard and every muscle in her body complains as she moves over to the edge of the bed to investigate where the noise is coming from. Then she realises that the travel radio alarm she set up the previous night is the source of the terrible racket. Sharon finds amusement in the irony that before hitting the city to search for blessed oblivion she had had the forethought to ensure she would not sleep in the morning after. Though she is quick to reach out a shaky hand to hit the snooze button on the top of the metallic casing and silence Radio Caprica's irritatingly cheerful dawn broadcast.

Sharon pulls the blankets over her head and feels the instant relief of peaceful darkness. She makes herself breathe slowly and deeply as she assesses the awfulness of her condition. Apart from her aching body her mouth is so dry it hurts to swallow and she can still taste bitter vomit from the night before. This is a situation she has found herself in far too much lately and as usual she regrets her weakness. "Why the _frak_ do I do this to myself?!" She cries out in a painfully rasping voice although only she can answer her question.

She tries to remember some of what happened on her journey to drink the city of Caprica dry but her mind only gives up blurred snapshots of garishly bright bars crowded with other people all on the same mission as her. Then Sharon has a vision of the dark statue of Hera and she remembers the horror of her visit to the shrine and the shame rises in her.

The silence around her brings her back to the very thing she was trying to forget last night. Now that she has lost both of her parents Sharon feels she has been cut adrift in a world of strangers.

"I'm sorry, I miss you _so_ much." Sharon says, her face buried deep under the blankets but still hopeful that the spirit of her mother is close enough to hear and accept her apology. Not so long ago Sharon had held on to her mother's chillingly cold hand with papery thin skin hanging loosely from bony fingers. She had sat by the bedside of her dying mother and watched a woman old before her time struggle through that final long night until slowly her life slipped away.

That was when Sharon turned to the dulling effect of alcohol, even though drinking herself stupid was only a temporary relief. The next morning the demons always returned with renewed vigour to torment her.

Her mother always wanted Sharon to continue her education and break away from the hold of Aerilon which lay too close to Troy and the event that had in the end cost both of her parents their lives. When the accident happened Sharon was on Aerilon attending the best school her father could afford on a Mine Supervisor's pay. On that fateful day her father along with all the men working underground in the mine had perished instantly while the majority of those on the surface were condemned to be slowly poisoned by the toxic dust they breathed in.

Sharon knew from the first moment the idea came to her to join the Colonial Fleet Officer Academy her mother would hate her choice. However it was the only way Sharon could leave Troy behind because a college education would have meant going begging to the Government for a special grant earmarked for the children of the tragedy. By joining the Fleet Sharon felt she was shaking off the communal mantle of pity under which she had existed since her world was torn apart.

Her mother had only lived long enough to be proud that Sharon had passed the induction course and to give her a blessing for her future as a pilot in the Colonial Fleet. Sharon had honoured her in the only way she knew how by returning to Troy one last time to ensure her mother's name was added to the monument commemorating the tragedy; a roll call of the dead. She had stood for a long time staring at the letters which made up her mother's name wishing forlornly that there had been space under her father's name so that at least they could be listed together.

Sharon's mind shifts up a gear as she realises she will miss out on the opportunity she has been given if she does not pull herself together. She pushes back the blankets and looking down at her body sees that she has slept in the clothes she was wearing the night before. There is a revolting smell of stale smoke emanating from them and the front of her top has dark green stains which only serves to make her feel ill all over again.

Sharon wants to crawl back under the covers for comfort. However as she looks over to check the time she sees a can of a glucose sports drink, known for its reviving properties, nestling behind the reading lamp on the bedside table and smiles at her forward thinking. Sharon starts to feel better just thinking about the energy lift this drink promises to bring her. She allows her legs to drop from the bed to the floor with a thud and pushes her arm against the mattress to lift her torso to a sitting position. Sharon reaches out for the can and places it between her thighs for leverage. She has to force her weak and shaky fingers to rip the ring pull from the top and her jerky movements cause some of the liquid to foam out and dribble down the sides wetting her already stained trousers. Holding the container in both trembling hands Sharon lifts it to her lips and takes a first sip of the fizzy sweet juice. She savours the bubbles bursting in her mouth before swallowing brings relief to her irritated throat. Now Sharon takes bigger mouthfuls until the can is completely drained dry and she starts to feel more human.

Her fingers work better now as Sharon unbuttons her shirt and takes it and her tank top off. She notices that a vivid purple and blue bruise has formed on her right forearm leading from under the plaster which is a reminder of the blood donation she made on Troy. Her arm is sore to touch and Sharon is surprised by this reaction as she remembers the procedure had been straight forward and worth the hot meal she received in payment. She is glad that she still has the receipt she was given to claim her free meal so that she can explain this injury to the Medical staff at the Academy.

Sharon slips off the rest of her clothing and instead of repacking the dirty clothes she decides to discard them, placing all of the items in the waste disposal bin under the table by the window. She does not want to be reminded of her shame and knows that soon she will be spending all her time in uniform anyway.

There is a shower cubical in the small basic washroom off her bedroom. Sharon starts up the shower and when the water heats up sufficiently she steps under the cleansing water pulling the shower curtain behind her. She would have liked to stay under the shower head letting the water stream over her face for a long time but the supply of hot water only lasts long enough for her to soap herself down before it turns icy cold.

Freezing, Sharon quickly dries her body with the threadbare towel provided by the hostel and gets dressed in clean clothes before brushing back her still wet hair into a ponytail. She repacks a few items into the large canvas holdall that contains all of her personal possessions. Sharon pauses before zipping up the holdall to check her most precious keepsakes; two wooden hand craved model elephants. They are carefully wrapped in thick paper so she can only make out their general shape but Sharon can picture them in her mind and she reaches out a hand to stroke the forms through the barrier that protects them. They were a gift from her mother for being accepted by the Colonial Fleet. She can picture them sitting on the mantelpiece in their house on Troy and after the accident they had occupied the narrow shelf above her mother's hospital bed. They are a direct link to her past, right back to a glorious time when she had been a carefree child loved by her father and mother. Sharon closes the holdall and slings it over her shoulder. She is unwilling to risk her recovery on a cheap and greasy breakfast at the hostel and is just grateful to put her stay there behind her.

Sharon has to walk for a few blocks before she can catch a bus heading into the centre of Caprica City. She has a morning to kill before formally reporting for duty and wants to use the time left to learn more about the organisation she is about to join.

A grey haired man in a cheap suit sits next to Sharon on the bus which carries the last of the morning commuters to their places of employment. He takes a cigarette packet out of his jacket pocket and opening it turns to offer her one. Sharon shakes her head furiously not caring that she is being rude. The man simply shrugs his shoulders dismissively and goes back to minding his own business. He lights a cigarette with a battered and blackened metallic lighter and then leans back to enjoy his morning hit, exhaling clouds of grey smoke which spread out all around him. The choking smell makes Sharon feel nauseous but she sits where she is, unable to compound her rudeness to the stranger by moving to another seat.

Sharon reaches her intended destination and rings the bell to alert the driver. The bus stops and she steps off, her large holdall which is slung over her shoulder weighing her down. As the bus moves off Sharon takes in her first look at the massive stone structure that is the Colonial Fleet Museum right in front of her across the broad street. It is surrounded on all four sides by flights of stone steps as though the building is a place of worship; a giant shrine to the Colonial military might.

The structure is made up of large ugly concrete slabs in the modern style. In contrast the two impressive high double metal doors are adorned with embossed freezes of warriors on horseback in the heat of battle, harking back to the ancient myths.

There are a few people milling about on the steps waiting for the doors to open. As Sharon walks towards the building across the wide square, the doors start to swing inwards revealing attendants dressed in uniforms in the style of the military dress grey complete with sash and gloves.

Approaching the doors Sharon is not surprised to find her way barred by one of the attendants who wants to search her bag. There has been a long war of attrition between the Colonial Government and those who do not agree that all the power should be centred on Caprica. The Dissenters are a ragtag army of the dispossessed who in their desperation resort to attacking civilian targets rather than taking on trained soldiers in open battle. And the more they are hunted down, the more desperate and fanatical they become. Sharon's face gives away her ethnicity and her connection to the poverty of the outer Colonies so she is used to being a suspect. While at the refugee school in Aerilon, Sharon and her fellow pupils often had their rooms searched by the Police looking for subversive and banned literature. So like a good citizen, she accepts without argument that the attendant has the right to take her aside and x-ray her bag and frisk her looking for weapons or a bomb belt.

The knowledge that this is the treatment they have to expect has put off many disadvantaged people from travelling to Caprica in the hope of bettering their lot in life. Sharon also has to face the reality that her military advancement has a predetermined limit because unlike all the senior officers of the Fleet she is not Caprican born. However Sharon can become a pilot and she knows her dream of leaving behind the harsh status of a refugee can be hers if she gives seven years of her life to the military. Sharon considers that to be a price well worth paying.

Once he has satisfied himself that she does not pose a threat the attendant shows Sharon to the cloakroom where she can store her bag and she is now free to enter the museum. In the main foyer the marble mosaic floor on which Sharon stands depicts the ancient symbols of each of the twelve Colonies which form a circular pattern around a commemorative stone obelisk. The polished silvery grey granite obelisk lists the history of the Fleet by the battles fought through the ages back to mythology. Though what really catches her attention is the simple inscription carved into a block of marble the colour of ivory, mounted high on the otherwise unadorned back wall that reads, "SO SAY WE ALL".

Sharon hears the clatter of feet on the hard floor first and instinctively turns to see a small boy coming towards her with his mother running after him. He wears a mask that loosely fits over his head and which is meant to represent a Cylon face. The effect is comical as the mask which is too big to sit straight is balanced at a precarious angle to allow the boy to squint under it and see where he is going. He, however, is convinced that he is a fearsome Cylon and points his finger at Sharon as though he is aiming a gun at her. As his mother shouts to tell him off for his bad behaviour Sharon smiles and playing along raises her hands to signal compliance, saying with as straight a face as she can manage, "I surrender."

"Prepare to die human scum!" orders the boy just as the mask is whipped from his head by a red faced mother who aims a practiced slap sharply against the side of her son's head. The boy's bravado crumples and he hides his face in his mother's skirt and sobs as the mother turns to Sharon, "I'm sorry if he bothered you," she says and leaning down she picks her son up to hold and comfort him. "He thinks they weren't real, that Cylons are the same as dragons that breathe fire. She turns to look at her son's tear stained face and continues, "He's too young to understand," and addressing the boy directly she adds, "…aren't you, Peter?"

"But, they _are_ real, there's one in that room there," the boy shouts indignantly, twisting around in his mother's arms and pointing towards the open doorway leading to the gallery to his right.

The mother's face is livid with anger as tight lipped she walks past Sharon and out of the museum carrying her son who is trying to struggle free, his screams of anger echoing around the atrium.

Sharon's curiosity is pulling her towards the room the boy had pointed out. Cylons were a taboo subject when she was growing up. The machines were the ones working in the mines until they rebelled and then humans had to take their place. The mention of the word Cylon was enough to incite a fearsome rage in her frail mother who believed with terrible bitterness that if the Cylons had been kept in their rightful place then her husband would not have died that terrible day. Sharon decides she wants to face what her mother hated with so much passion and goes towards the room that displays a stone plague with the legend "_The Cylon Wars_" on the wall above the door frame. The first display she sees is in the centre of the room. It only contains a gleaming metal figure standing frozen in time in spotlights mounted in the top of the glass case. Sharon walks purposely straight towards the trapped Cylon. This is the first time she has ever seen the real thing as the Cylon war ended long before she was born but it looks exactly as she remembers from the illustrations in her school history text books. As she stands face to face with this representative of human manufacture that was the cause of so much pain, Sharon realises the exhibit is in fact a gutted shell. For under the metallic armour she sees the wooden framework holding the separate components together. This disappoints her as its impotence lessens the impact of being so close to her inherited enemy.

Sharon is startled by a sudden movement reflected on the glass between her and the Cylon. She jumps back from the display and turns round to find an elderly attendant watching her.

"Sorry to have frightened you Miss, _Zero_ the Cylon can have that effect on people."

"You've given it a name?!" Sharon exclaims in shock as she turns her gaze back to the exhibit.

"You don't have to work in this room day after day with that pile of scrap metal staring you in the face." He walks past Sharon beckoning with his hand for her to follow him round to look at Zero's metallic back. "Look at the scratches at the right shoulder. That is where all Cylon models were stamped with their own unique number when they were still soft from the mould. The first sign that a rebellion was comming was when they started removing each other's identifying serial numbers. All machines have to have serial numbers you see. We call this one Zero because like the rest of them _it _wanted to be more than a machine and instead became a nothing!"

Sharon stares hard at the man whose passionate hatred is too real for him to be any less than a soldier of this war. Sharon can understand this man; his raw pain is so close to what she feels. She turns her attention back to the badly marked and dented surface where once Zero had a number instead of a name. "On Troy thousands of Cylons worked in the mines…"

"And they were the first to rise up and demand better conditions, have you ever heard the like miss, machines demanding rights!" The man says and his hollow laughter fills through the room with the sound of the terrible irony.

"The Cylon rebels were forced back underground into the heart of the main mine shaft and Colonial Fleet bombers blasted the whole area. But unfortunately that did not put an end to it. The news of the first rebellion was transmitted via the central core and spread like wild fire through the other Colonies…"

"So it all started on Troy, I never knew, no one ever talked about why it started, only that they rebelled and _had_ to be put down."

"And that Miss is why humans were working the mines in those dangerous conditions when the tragedy happened…"

Sharon suddenly finds herself remembering a golden and peaceful evening when she was very young and waiting for her father to walk up the path to their house after a day's work. Still in the throes of this vivid memory she starts to speak, "My father was a supervisor at the mine, once he brought home the mangled arm of one of these things. I saw it from my bedroom window, the long fingers clinking together as he swung it back and forward. My mother screamed at him to get it out of the house, she didn't want me to see it."

The attendant nods approvingly saying, "Mothers will always want to protect their children from such horrors. Poor Zero was only a worker model; it was the soldier models who committed the worst atrocities but there have been attempts to vandalise this exhibit. Many people have painful memories of the war and Troy, and he's an easy target."

"My father died that day," Sharon says quietly, her head bowed as she recalls her last sight of him waving goodbye to her from their house in the early light of dawn before she left to go to school in Aerilon.

"And if the Cylons had remembered their proper place in the scheme of things he would not now be held in the cold embrace of Hades. I mourn with you child."

Shocked at being confronted by the senseless reason for her father's death Sharon turns to stare at the Cylon's shiny silver mask, her mind full of hate. It is of a crude design with no real attempt to render it to the human form. After all the Cylon's purpose was to do work that was either too dangerous or beneath human dignity; they cleaned the streets, maintained the sewers, worked on building sites, were trained as foot soldiers and went down the mines. There was no reason for them to interact with each other or their masters when all they had to do was obey orders. Sharon cannot understand what could have happened to make a machine turn against its masters.

Without thinking Sharon reaches out her hand as if the answer can be found by touching its cold skin. The attendant grabs her arm before she makes contact with the glass.

"No, Miss, you can't do that, you'll trigger the alarm. The case is also made of toughed glass to stop people taking a hammer to our pet _toaster_."

"I learned at school that they carried out experiments on human captives."

"Cut them up while they were still alive, women and children taken apart while they screamed in agony!"

Sharon does not want to hear anymore, even as her mind conjures up the very worst images of pain and suffering. A wave of nausea washes over her and Sharon feels lightheaded and starts to panic that she is losing control of her body and falling into a faint.

The man still has his hand resting on her arm and when he notices her distress he moves his body closer to let her lean against him.

"Come and sit down child. Here I am telling you horror stories when your mother is the wise one wanting to protect you from such things."

He puts his arm round her back to support her as he leads Sharon over to a wooden bench between two display cases.

Emotionally and physically exhausted Sharon sinks gratefully down onto the bench.

The man leans down and reaches under the bench to retrieve a metallic flask. "This is my secret stash. When I was a serving soldier I always needed to break at least one or two of the more stupid regulations. Saved my life once during the war but I won't speak anymore of these things." He opens the flask and pours the some rich hot chocolate into the top of the flask which also serves as a cup. The man puts the warm cup into Sharon's hands and then gently helps her to raise it to her mouth. She takes a sip of the hot thick liquid and enjoys the feeling as it runs down the back of her throat warming and soothing her body from within. Sharon then helps herself to further small sips of the luxurious liquid as she sits letting her body relax and replenish its strength.

"This tastes wonderful; thank you…please, I would like to know your name?" Sharon asks, embarrassed that she is relying on the help of a stranger yet again. She notices for the first time that the man's eyes are bright and alert although his face is lined with the wrinkles of age and the hair under his attendant's hat is grey.

He smiles and reaches out to pat the back of her hand. Sharon can see that he has lost his ring finger above the first knuckle and that the back of his hand carries a hard and shiny scar from where he had been burnt.

"Sergeant Thomas Jamieson Retired, at your service, Miss. You can call me Tom."

"I'm Sharon Valerii of Troy, and I am joining the Colonial Fleet today."

"And your mother approves of your chosen path, what with all the pain she has already suffered?"

Sharon looks over at Zero who will stand forever more within a glass prison, a lesson in defeat. She wonders how many times she will have to admit her mother is no longer there to care for her and for that question to be a reminder to her of everything she has lost. Quietly she drains the cup and hands it back to Thomas.

"My mother died recently although her life really ended on the day of the mine accident when she lost my father."

"Did she not want to live for you?"

On Aerilon whenever Sharon told someone she had just met that her mother was in the sanatorium they would go out their way to avoid contact with her again. The other children in the refugee school all had people to mourn so Sharon could not add her pain to their burden. As Sharon considers his question she realises Thomas is not afraid of death and that means he does not fear her grief.

"While everyone else was trying to escape my mother stayed close by the mine. She did not want to leave and abandon my father but the longer she stayed the more of the poisoned dust she breathed in. She joined me on Aerilon and she managed to hang on to life until she could see I was strong enough to could go on alone."

"A brave woman…"

"Yes, she was. And I returned to Troy for the last time to make sure her name was added to the list of the dead."

"The Colonial Fleet will be your family now. They will look after you like parents and you will make friends who will become your sisters and brothers. One day you will be in a mess room and you will look around at familiar faces and you won't be an orphan anymore." Thomas turns his face away from Sharon and stares down at the marble floor while she considers his words.

"Thank you for your kindness," Sharon says reaching out to touch his hand which is curled round the edge of the polished seat.

"Miss, I can hear your stomach grumbling from here and it wouldn't be the best start if you were to faint during the swearing in ceremony. There is a cafe in the museum, I suggest you have something to eat, you have money?"

Nodding her head Sharon realises that she has not eaten since yesterday and is relieved that the idea of food is now much more appealing than first thing this morning. At this moment Sharon feels more alive than she has felt for a very long time, it is as if the high wall she built to cope with her loss is weakening.

"I want you to remember this Miss; we will never be troubled by the Cylon again. They left and haven't been heard of for decades because somewhere far in the deepest depths of space is a scrap heap of rusting spare parts. After all what were the Cylons but our servants and without masters to issue orders there is no reason for them to exist."

Sharon smiles at the old man feeling true gratitude for his kindness. She shyly leans over to give him a gentle kiss on his cheek.

"I can come back and tell you how I'm doing if you would like that?"

"That would be nice young one but don't worry if there isn't time. Just remember to live your life well, be honest and true to the Fleet and never leave a comrade behind in battle and you will be able to wear the uniform with pride."

"_So_ say we all." Sharon says solemnly, making the old man laugh and land a playful soft punch of fellowship on her shoulder.

Sharon then bids Thomas goodbye and walks away, past Zero and the other images of war and destruction, towards the hope of her new life.

* * *

**End**

* * *


End file.
